Tequilamour
by Fallen.Debutante
Summary: Femmeslash; How exactly are you supposed to hide your feelings from an empath? Poker game, things happen. I might continue if I get positive feedback. T/C


The Enterprise was stationed near an uninhabited class-M planet for a few days following an extensive mission and most of the staff had taken shore leave. But when several of the senior officers expressed a desire to remain on board, Commander Riker suggested that after the stressful couple of weeks they'd just endured, a bottle of tequila and a leisurely game of poker was just what the doctor ordered. Beverly Crusher was only too keen to agree; it wasn't often the group had a chance to drink together. In fact, Beverly hadn't been drunk in years. She was a little ashamed to admit just how excited she was; it made her feel like a teenager again.

Beverly sat motionless in front of her mirror. She had dinner plans with Deanna and was becoming increasingly nervous. What if she couldn't keep her emotions in check? For weeks now, she had been doing her best to avoid the empath, even though being near her was what Beverly wanted more than anything. She had always known she was attracted to women, and although most races were more accepting than they had ever been, it was a personal choice not to reveal that side of herself to anyone. When she first met Deanna, it was merely a sexual attraction – easy enough to keep in tow, and less an emotion than a physical response. But lately it had grown to something more. Beverly didn't see it coming, really, until the prospect of witnessing Deanna drunk made her heart leap out of her chest. It brought her back to high school when she would drink with her girlfriends and discover which ones were willing to experiment. Knowing Deanna, she probably wouldn't even let it go further than a buzz, but that didn't stop Beverly from playing out hundreds of scenarios in her head each night since, most of them ending with Deanna in her bed.

"Stop this," she scolded herself out loud. Deanna would be there to pick her up for dinner any moment. Beverly paced her quarters, doing her best to establish an emotional wall and trying to convince herself that it was going to be fine. _It's not as if she can read minds. Just because she senses affection from me doesn't mean she knows it's directed toward her. _The words weren't as comforting as she intended them to be, but they were something. It's just that she wasn't entirely sure how Deanna's powers worked, which made her uneasy, to say the least.

"Beverly? Are you alright?"

She gasped, startled by the sound of Deanna's voice.

"Sorry, I mustn't have heard you. I, uh, I'm fine, I'm just worried about Wesley, that's all," she lied.

"Oh, is he down on the planet?" The look of concern in Deanna's dark eyes seemed genuine_. _

"Yes, but I'm sure he'll be fine. Shall we?" She motioned toward the door and Deanna grinned as she led the way to Ten Forward. The walk consisted mostly of small talk and a bit of catching up; after all, Beverly hadn't thought her mind disciplined enough to attend their daily workout for at least a few weeks, and it had been a while since they last had girl-talk.

"I have a confession to make," Deanna said playfully after they were seated.

_So do I,_ Beverly thought, though she'd never really tell. "What is it?"

"I've never had tequila," she confessed with a shy smile.

Beverly laughed. "That's right, you're not from Earth. Sometimes I forget!" She said in earnest. "I'm going to warn you, it isn't the most pleasant drink. Maybe we should do a test run?" Deanna nodded and Beverly asked Guinan for two margaritas. Beverly watched in adoration as she reacted to the drink.

"This is delicious!" She exclaimed, obviously wondering how anyone could possibly call it unpleasant.

"That's because the lime is hiding the tequila flavour. Once you've finished, we'll take a shot and see how you like that."

As it turned out, Deanna handled the tequila much better than either of them had expected. The two women were already a little buzzed by the time they left Ten Forward. As they walked the corridor toward Commander Riker's quarters, Deanna playfully reached for Beverly's hand. A shy smile escaped the doctor's lips as she tried to convince herself that it was just a friendly gesture, nothing more. Deanna had always been affectionate, especially while under the influence of alcohol. But while she was absent-mindedly rambling on about poker, all Beverly could focus on was Deanna's hand in her own and the electric pulse that had suddenly taken over her body.

"I don't know why I even bother playing, Will always wi – Beverly, are you alright?" Deanna stopped dead in her tracks and let go of Beverly's hand. "I'm sensing.."

"I'm fine," she interrupted. "It must be the alcohol."

"Are you sure?"

Beverly nodded smiled as convincingly as she could manage and continued to walk. She didn't need to be an empath to sense Deanna's confusion and concern. _Just keep walking, _she told herself. _Just keep walking._

Deanna caught up and continued to walk alongside her friend in silence. When they arrived, there were only two seats left at the table, between Will and Data. Worf sat opposite the two women.

"Where's Geordi?" Deanna asked, and Beverly took a much-needed deep breath.

"He's working on something in Engineering," Will said. "Might stop by later."

Beverly was quiet for most of the game. She could feel Deanna looking at her every now and then but couldn't bring herself to make eye contact. She would inevitably become too distracted by that gorgeous hair, her almost black eyes, _and those lips. _She silently cursed herself for her lack of control, and proposed that they do a round of shots. Eventually it turned into a drinking game; the first one to fold each hand had to do a shot, and Deanna later added the rule that they weren't allowed to use the word 'deal'.

"I always regret drinking tequila," Will half-joked after his fourth or fifth shot.

"Curious; if you always regret drinking tequila, why do you continue to do so?" Data asked. Deanna and Will exchanged a playful glance, and Beverly silently cursed herself again for being so quiet. How was she supposed to compete with Riker when she couldn't even bring herself to say anything? _Who are you kidding, there's no competition, _she thought, reaching for the bottle. _Get this out of your system. _Deanna, who had been trying to read Beverly since what had happened in the corridor, glanced at her with apprehension evident in her eyes. There was something else too, but they didn't sustain eye contact long enough for Beverly to figure out what it was.

"Well," Will replied. "I suppose because it_'_s fun at the time."

"The concept of regret has always perplexed me." Data continued. "I have performed actions in the past which, as I later discovered, were not necessarily the best course of action. However, I do not believe myself capable of truly experiencing regret as I interpret it as being an emotional response. Am I correct in my analysis?"

Deanna giggled, clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol. "I believe so, Data. Regret usually evokes feelings of sadness, disappointment, and in some cases, anger."

"Do you have any regrets, counselor?" he asked.

"I'm gonna need another shot if we're going to have this conversation," she laughed.

"One for me, as well." Worf said.

"I'll start," Will volunteered, patting his belly. "I regret all the times I've given in to my love of food."

"Mmm, I regret ever trying chocolate. It's my kryptonite." Deanna sighed. The corner of Beverly's mouth twitched into a half-smile as she looked at her hands. She loved to watch Deanna eat chocolate. It was like a ritual. "How about you, Worf?"

"I do not believe in regrets," he said with a serious tone. "I learn from my mistakes."

Deanna poured them all another shot, with the exception of Data. "To learning from our mistakes," she said. They all raised their shot glasses in agreeance.

"I know," Deanna said mischievously. "And this is _not_ just the alcohol talking. I regret never having tried it with a woman."

"Tried what, counselor?" Data asked. Will burst into a fit of awkward laughter as Worf quietly explained that the counselor was implying "sexual intercourse." Beverly, shocked, excused herself to go to the washroom amidst the chaos, and it wasn't until she stood up that she realized just how drunk she was.

She looked into the mirror and tried to wrap her head around what Deanna had said. _Did that just happen? Surely, she couldn't have said that just to see how I'd react… What if she's known all along? It's not like I've done an exemplary job of hiding my emotions… oh god, why is the room spinning? _She brought her fingertips to her rosy cheeks, and they felt hot to the touch. _No more alcohol, _she told herself, _or you'll do something you'll regret. _She splashed a bit of cold water on her face and mustered the courage to return to the table, where much to her dismay, they were still on the same topic as when she'd left.

"I'm just saying it's something that's always interested me. Why do you have to put a label on it?"

"On my planet, this is _not_ an issue." Worf stated plainly.

"It's not an _issue, _Worf," Deanna said, angrily. "On some planets it is very common to have same-sex relationships. What do you think, Beverly? You've been awfully quiet tonight."

Her heart started racing, unsure of how she should answer. "Well, I- I don't see anything _wrong _with it, if that's what you're asking." It was starting to feel a lot like Deanna was trying to get her to confess something.

"I can't believe we're having this discussion," Will speculated while clearly attempting to contain the huge grin on his face. "Geordi's gonna be upset he missed this."

Deanna ignored him. "Is it something that's ever interested you?" Deanna asked, with a cunning gleam in her eye.

"No," Beverly lied, trying once again to establish the emotional wall Deanna always managed to knock down.

"You're lying," Deanna said with a laugh. "I'm sure of it. You can't hide from me, Beverly Crusher." Everyone turned to look at her. Deanna inched closer to the redhead in anticipation of her response. She glanced around the table. Data was no doubt extremely curious and viewed this merely as a learning opportunity; Riker was loving every moment; Worf was pouring himself another shot, clearly uncomfortable. Deanna was the hardest to read. Her big, round eyes were glued to Beverly's – inquisitive and unrelenting and truly stunning.

"Okay, yes." Beverly admitted, finally. "It is something that I have… considered. But I've never-" she gulped, "acted on it."

"There, was that so hard? See Worf? It's perfectly normal." Under the table, hidden from view, Deanna placed her hand on Beverly's knee. It was an innocent enough gesture, but the doctor couldn't help but react to it, and Deanna noticed. "Shall we play another? Who's dealing?" she continued, her voice extremely steady – no hint at all that she was running two fingers up and down the inside of Beverly's left thigh.

"Ah-Ha!" Worf exclaimed. "You said de—the forbidden word." He grinned smugly as he caught himself.

"You caught me," Deanna pouted, and poured herself a shot. Beverly sighed softly when Deanna freed her hand to do so. "Want one?" The doctor shook her head. Any more alcohol and she wouldn't be able to contain herself.

Deanna won the first round, and the second. Beverly was the first to fold on the second round, which put a damper on her plan to stop drinking.

"You know, counselor," Will said mischievously, "I do believe that the tequila has heightened your empathic senses."

"And why is that?" She batted her eyelashes in an attempt to look innocent.

Beverly gained the courage to cut in: "Well, didn't you say on your way over here that Will always wins?"

"I may have said that, yes."

"My point exactly," Will stated. "When did you get so good at poker?"

"I don't know what either of you is talking about," she joked, and quickly changed the subject. Will and Beverly exchanged a look as Deanna asked Worf why he wasn't drunk.

"I have a much higher…tolerance than humans. And clearly, yours is much lower," he teased.

"Hey, that's not fair! Beverly and I were already a little drunk when we got here, isn't that right, Beverly?" Her voice had developed into more of a sigh as she pronounced the doctor's name. She placed her hand back on Beverly's thigh, a little higher this time.

"Ahem- um, that's right, I thought Deanna would have to warm up to the taste of tequila but apparently she's, uh, really enjoying it," she said, prompting Deanna to dig her nails into Beverly's skin. "Oh my," she whispered.

"What was that, doctor?" Will asked. Deanna cleared her throat as Beverly invented an excuse.

"I, um, I fear I've had a little too much to drink," she stuttered.

"Wasn't that the plan?" he said with a smile, and reached for the bottle.

The group continued to play until Beverly finally decided it was time to go. She didn't know whether it was due to her tiredness or to the fact that she couldn't focus on anything but Deanna, but the result was still the same; she wanted to leave. Whether or not the counselor would follow, she wasn't sure; perhaps she'd spend the night with Commander Riker as she had so many times before, but Beverly wasn't about to stick around to find out. There wasn't much protest when she said goodnight; they were all getting tired and no one other than Will or Deanna had won a round in an hour.

"You sure you can get home safely?" Will asked.

"I'll walk her back," Deanna said without hesitation, and Worf, oblivious to commander Riker's joke, commented how anti-productive that would be, considering she'd had twice as much as the doctor. But for Beverly, the conversation had become nothing but background noise to her racing thoughts and her heartbeat. Deanna was walking her back. Which meant she wasn't staying with Will. Her stomach lurched as she accepted the reality of the situation. This wasn't one of her fantasies, where she never got rejected or hurt, never made a fool out of herself. This was actually happening.

"Ready, Beverly? Hello? Bev?" Deanna waved her hand in front of the Doctor's face.

"What? Oh, yes. Let's go," she said, disoriented.

"Better get this one to bed," Will commented. The two women shared a glance in response to his choice of words – bashful on Beverly's end, and rather enthused on Deanna's.

They said their drunken goodbyes and exited Will's quarters hand in hand.

"Where do you think you're going?" Deanna asked. Beverly was clearly dumbstruck, so Deanna continued: "Won't Wesley be back by now? I figured" she paused, wrapping her arms around Beverly's waist, "you'd want to go somewhere more private."

Beverly's head was spinning, torn between her desire for the gorgeous woman standing in front of her and the voice in the back of her mind screaming "this is a horrible idea!" They were both drunk, but she wasn't too inebriated to recognize that this could have some strong implications.

"Deanna," she pleaded, reluctantly removing the counselor's hands from her waist. She had intended to say goodnight. But when she noticed the hurt and disappointment in Deanna's eyes she stopped herself. "Not here," she said instead. Deanna smiled and bit her lip playfully. It was just enough to convince Beverly she'd made the right choice.

The second they entered Troi's quarters, her arms were around Beverly's neck and their lips collided. The kiss was halfway between shy and desperate; it hardly seemed possible. But Deanna's lips were just as soft and welcoming as Beverly had imagined they'd be. It was she who deepened the kiss, licking Deanna's bottom lip and nipping at it slightly before their tongues met. Beverly allowed her hands to roam from Deanna's hips, along the back of her neck and through her stunning hair; she traced her thumbs against Deanna's perfect collarbones and slowly down to her breasts, which she'd stared at every chance she got but was never allowed to touch. They were perfect. It didn't take long for them to shift to the couch, where Deanna began to remove her shirt. She was perfect. Everything was perfect.

Except it wasn't. "S-stop," Beverly said half-heartedly. But she knew that if she saw Deanna naked that there would be no going back. There was shocked silence for a few moments while Deanna frantically tried to read Beverly, in search of some explanation.

"You're frightened," Deanna finally said, matter-of-factly.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Deanna, you're beautiful and so," she blushed, "so sexy. And I want this, I do. But not like this. Not if you won't remember it the next morning. And even if you do, I don't want to risk ruining our friendship."

"I think we're past friendship, Beverly."

"Are we? Aren't you just doing this because you're drunk and you know I'm a willing candidate?"

Deanna opened her mouth to protest, and then changed her mind. The situation was forcing both of them to sober up, even if only a little, and there was definitely merit to what Beverly was saying.

"Earlier, before poker, I sensed that you have strong feelings for me."

"I do," was all she could say in reply.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Beverly blushed and stared at her hands. While she found it difficult to talk about anything that made her even slightly uncomfortable, Deanna was almost too good at it. Not only was it her job, but she certainly had the upper hand; she knew how Beverly felt even before Beverly knew.

"I guess I can understand why," Deanna said sadly while Beverly continued to stare at her hands. Deanna leaned forward to hug her and stole a brief kiss before pulling away. "Stay the night? We don't have to do anything."

Deanna fell asleep long before Beverly did. Even the alcohol couldn't stop her mind from running wild. She had Deanna in her arms, and who knew what tomorrow would bring?


End file.
